


To Please Monsieur

by CrazyPierrsonMan



Category: Tomb Raider & Related Fandoms, Tomb Raider (Video Game)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 07:37:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12677358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyPierrsonMan/pseuds/CrazyPierrsonMan
Summary: WARNING: NSFW / PWP! Larson and Pierre decide to try exploring the Dom/sub kink... and much to Larson's satisfaction, Pierre assumes the role of Master—or should I say, Monsieur—quite well.





	To Please Monsieur

**Author's Note:**

> In case you wanted more Larson bottoming--I had to make Pierre a power bottom Dom. Sorry 'bout it. (Not really.)

“I-I wanna grab your hips,” Larson whined, wrists firmly tied behind his back, seated otherwise cozily on the couch. Pierre was stood staring at him, eyes cold yet filled with lust. Larson winced a bit at Pierre’s silence; he knew already that it was the wrong thing to say, going against what Monsieur wanted—and was immediately filled with regret.

“Request denied,” Pierre responded. “And for that, it will only take longer to get what you want.”

Larson groaned; Pierre shot an icy look at him to shut up him, and for disobeying his master, Larson was forced to watch the object of his desire pull back his foreskin to reveal the steadily leaking head of his dick, his own cock throbbing, achingly hard.

Pierre stroked his cock gently, moaning as he did so for effect, and reached his left thumb down to coat the head of his dick with pre-cum; he brought his soiled thumb up to his mouth, then paused a moment, instead slowly bringing it to Larson’s face and nodding upward. Larson quickly opened his mouth, eager to run his tongue over Pierre’s pre-cum covered finger, and just before his tongue could reach it, Pierre snatched his hand back and lapped at his thumb while groaning.

“Why Larson,” Pierre began, “You will have to be quicker than that if you want a taste.” Larson stared at Pierre, puppy eyes in full force, disappointment wracking his body. Pierre continued, “Mmm. It’s so good, Larson. _Très fantastique_ , a delicious flavor.”

Larson knew—Pierre was testing him, challenging him to speak up and say something, to beg and cry so he could deny him of the relief he sorely needed. Instead, he chose to bite his lip and chew it pensively, hoping to finally pass his Monsieur’s test after hours of pleading and begging.

“Oho? Quiet for once?” Pierre chided. “Perhaps my little pet is at last catching on?” Larson gulped heavily, sweat forming on his brow, knit together and raised. His cock was still so achingly hard, and he wanted nothing more than to break the ropes on his wrists, flip Pierre on his belly, and fuck him until his legs gave out. But instead, he waited for instructions.

“Tell me what you want,” Pierre spat, sneering.

“I-I wanna fuck ya,” Larson said carefully, waiting for further instruction. Pierre raised his right hand and motioned for Larson to continue.

“I want you to put my cock up yer ass, Monsieur, and I want ya to ride it. I wanna make you feel good and I… I wanna cum,” he pleaded, punctuating his statement by thrusting gently upward, making his erection bounce obscenely.

Pierre gazed at his lover’s thick member and mulled it over—as much as he was enjoying this exploration into Dom and sub roleplay, he didn’t know if he had the inner fortitude to resist much longer. Larson was just too damn _hot_ like that, his little captured cowboy quite literally begging for his ass.

It was too much, and Pierre—who had prepared his hole before the scenario had even begun—decided it was time to finish this, and give Larson the orgasm he’d been craving for so long now.

His hands found themselves gripped onto Larson’s shoulders, right knee making contact with the cushion, then left. Pierre licked his lips in anticipation. Surely his beloved could withstand just a bit more of a tease…?

Brown eyes staring into hazel, Pierre took hold of Larson’s thick cock and guided it toward his hole, letting the tip slip inside. Slowly, he started to sink onto it—and abruptly pulled up before the head could slip inside.

Larson stared up at Pierre, his mouth gaping wide, eyes wide and brows furrowed. “B-Boss, please! No!”

Pierre sneered again in response, baring his teeth at his pet, laughing cruelly at his lover’s need. “Does it not feel exquisite? Is it not what you’ve craved for so long?” It was then that he felt the sensation of being bucked upward, Larson’s cock prodding at his ass in desperation. Staring down at Larson’s hips, his expression turned stern as he reached down to push them into the couch.

“Ah-ah, keep those hips steady, _s’il vous plaît_ ,” he began, “or you will get nothing, and the game will be ended for the day.” And that was enough for Larson to close his mouth—going so far as to grit his teeth—trying his damnedest to put his expression back in a neutral position as he waited for Monsieur to finish his agonizing torment.

Taking grip of Larson’s dick once more, he rocked his hips back and forth, smearing his lover’s pre-cum across his asshole. To Larson’s chagrin, Pierre let go of his shaft and instead reached back, right side arching as he moaned, spreading and finger-fucking his hole, staring again into Larson’s eyes the entire time.

“P-Please, Monsieur,” Larson said, trying to keep an even tone, “I wanna be inside ya. It f-feels so good, and I just wanna make you happy.” It was all he had left to offer; it was driving him mad, watching Pierre pleasure himself and he with no ability to touch.

At this, Pierre cocked an eyebrow, and craned his neck downward, his lips inches from his lover’s. It was the first time Larson had seen him behave like this, and he was worried that it would earn another hour of aching denial.

As he closed the gap between their mouths, Pierre murmured, “Request approved.” Lips met; tongues clashed, running over one another; and Pierre once more reached back to place Larson inside him, where it felt so _right_ for him to be. Beyond the roleplay, beyond how utterly _turned on_ Pierre was to be controlling Larson like this, coupling with him like this—reaffirming their bonds—would never fail to bring a smile to his face, just as it did right then.

Larson, in turn, moaned softly as he thrusted upward, shoving more of his dick within his beloved before he was entirely ready. Pierre cried out as he sank down onto Larson, wrapping his arms around his neck, pulling up and away before settling down again, filling his ass with cock, his balls resting on Larson’s thick blond bush.

Panting, Larson exhaled with a whistling noise, uttering, “I love bein’ balls-deep in you, Pierre. So fuckin’ much.”

That was all Pierre needed to start riding Larson in earnest, letting go of his neck and leaning back to raise his arms to his brown-furred chest. Feeling his pecs as Larson’s eyes roved over his body, Pierre took his right nipple between his right index finger and thumb, pinching and pulling at it before mimicking the same action with his left hand. Larson tried his damnedest to keep up the pace, his cock sliding in and out of Pierre’s slick, tight ass, proving to his Monsieur that he could be of service even with, in a literal sense, his hands tied.

“B-Boss,” Larson began, his thrusts quickening, “P-Pull off, it’s gonna be a mess.” Pierre looked him in the eyes, in that same cold yet lustful way he’d been giving him during any command, but before he could speak, Larson continued. “I-I can’t hold it, it’s been three weeks since I came, it’s gonna be a fuckin’ mess, it’s gonna leak everywhere, aww hell, Boss, g-get off me—”

Pierre wrapped his arms around Larson’s neck again, leaning forward to whisper in his ear.

“Request… denied.”

And that’s what threw Larson over the edge. Three weeks of pent-up sexual frustration, three weeks of Pierre teasing him and admonishing him whenever he’d tried to masturbate, three weeks of cum that had been waiting to spill out. It sprayed up into Pierre’s ass, out of his hole, down Larson’s cock and across his balls. A little even found its way onto the couch—and Pierre grinned and rode it out, his hole and Larson’s still-hard cock a sticky, warm mess.

Panting, Larson turned his head slightly, looking over at Pierre. He looked so damned _pleased_ with himself, even though Larson was pretty sure that the couch was going to be stained with his seed forever—at least the couch was white to begin with—and wondered if the scenario was done. His arms were starting to ache a little bit.

Choosing to remain silent until otherwise instructed, he watched Pierre dismount from his straddling position on top of him, and stand, taking a few deliberate steps backward. The head of Pierre’s cock was slick with pre-cum and dripping more still; in Larson’s opinion, it was quite the attractive display. Hands on his hips, jutting them out to make his erection even more pronounced, Pierre said, “My pet, you’ve not yet finished your job. Come here and bring me off, _oui? Donne moi une fellation._ ”

While Larson wasn’t entirely sure what that last sentence meant, Pierre had laced his tone with a hungry desire… and given that he was pointing at his cock now, Larson could guess that his favorite French dick was on the menu.

Bracing his soles on the floor, Larson pushed himself to lean forward. Bracing his thighs on the somewhat sticky cushion, he stood proudly, almost defiantly, and shuffled forward a few steps before lowered himself to his knees. Dropping his torso and neck so as to be mouth-level with Pierre’s crotch, he stretched his tongue out to lap at the head of his French-kisser’s cock, savoring the taste he’d been deprived of earlier, groaning appreciatively as the fluid met his tongue.

Pierre grabbed Larson’s stubbled chin, forcing their eyes to meet. Once more, Pierre nodded upward, and Larson opened his mouth in response. As he pushed his dick inside of Larson’s awaiting mouth, Pierre sighed at the wetness surrounding him. Larson closed his mouth around it, his lips tightly closing around his lover’s stiff erection, hairy balls cradling a bristly chin.

Placing his hands on either side of Larson’s mouth, Pierre began to thrust, Larson closing his eyes as he gave himself to his master, letting him finally reach his own orgasm. He reckoned it wouldn’t take very long—he knew that, dominant persona be damned, Pierre had run out of patience at least 20 minutes ago.

So he savored what he could. The pre-cum dripping down onto his tongue, Pierre’s beautiful cock sliding between his lips as he face-fucked him, the warm, firm yet guiding hands in his hair on the back of his head—and of course, how proud it made him feel to be of service to Monsieur, how… how utterly _aroused_ he was to be used and ordered around by the man he loved most.

It was almost too much for him to ponder, and now wasn’t the right time, not when Pierre was cumming in his mouth, blowing a load that he knew he _had_ to swallow, whether Monsieur ordered it or not, and he kept up the pace as the warm, salty liquid filled his mouth in steady bursts.

Pierre panted, his head thrown back as he gave two final thrusts into Larson’s mouth, satisfied that his own three-week denied orgasm had seen the light of day and come to an end, and even more pleased that Larson had swallowed without instruction. Pulling his softening member from his lover’s mouth, he smiled warmly, lowering his left hand and using his right to pet Larson on the back of his head, giving an affectionate pat.

“ _Félicitations,_ _mon cher;_ it did take some time, but you performed admirably when you understood what must be done,” he said.

Larson smiled, a bit of cum noticeable in the corner of his mouth. Pierre brought himself to his knees in front of Larson so the two were level, and took the opportunity to lick his own cum off of Larson’s lips, before deepening it into a kiss. Reaching behind Larson as their tongues intertwined, he untied the knot on the rope binding Larson’s wrists together. He wasted no time in exercising his freedom by wrapping his arms around Pierre, the two standing up together as their mouths parted.

The scene over, Pierre was hesitant now; it was the first time either of them had done a planned power exchange, and he wondered if he had gone too far. He took no time to ruminate over his actions, and instead, knew that his next act as a dominant was to be sure his submissive was cared for. Looking Larson in the eyes, Pierre asked, “My cowboy, are you feeling well? Was everything to your liking?”

Larson grinned wide, and replied, “Hell yeah, it was! That was the most fun I’d had in ages!”

Pierre gave a smile of his own, happy that it wasn’t just him who’d found the experience an enjoyable one. “Then,” he said bashfully, averting his eyes from Larson, “Perhaps in the future, we might try this again?”

Larson nodded fervently, taking Pierre’s left hand in his right. “Please?” Larson began, as the two stood up off the floor. Larson raised his left hand to stroke Pierre’s hair, soft brown locks straightened back into place. The two’s gazes locking again, Larson continued, “I’d do anything to t’make my Monsieur happy, y’know.”

“Then what would make me happy,” Pierre began, “Is taking the fabric cleaner to the couch _rapidement_. And after a shower, we will do whatever it is you want this evening, _oui?”_

The future looked bright for the intimate aspect of Larson and Pierre’s life.


End file.
